Speed
by Spirix
Summary: A Drabble Collection, Chapter 5: Wait  Ed POV ...What is he thinking?  It's almost as if he is daring you. [RoyEd and other random pairings][beware ch 3]
1. Instantaneously

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Instantaneously

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When you first discovery the pounding in your chest and the shortness of your breathe is because you found that someone you take it slow. What if you're just confused? What if they don't feel the same way?

Edward tapped his pen on his desk, ignoring the room around him. The Colonel locked himself in his office all day with important phone calls so the rest of his staff had very little to do. When ever that occurred, mischief was afoot.

They placed a bucket of water over his door and waited in anticipation. Hours grew to long and man after man retreated home in disappointment. Edward ignored the clock, he was only halfway through his volume and there was no Al waiting on him. He saw no reason to return to the dorms while his brother was on holiday. He was deep within his tome when the fateful door opened in the moonlight.

A clank as the pail hit the floor brought his golden eyes forward. Roy Mustang was looking at his uniform in silent frustration. His bangs dripped on to shiny floor and Edward watched, entranced. This was the first time he had ever seen _Roy Mustang._ The taller man flicked his hair back and shook somewhat like a dog.

The amber desk lights caught each sparkling drop as it took flight from his midnight tresses. Edward knew the man thought he was alone but refused to educate him that people were still around. His feelings were rushing and pulsing without warning. It was in that moment when his world changed. It was as if a light went off in his head and the world stopped. Roy was gorgeous and so… so…

"Human..."

The Colonel paused and looked right at him. They looked into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity but after that first blink it only took an instant for Edward to close his book and run out the door.

It only took an instant to realize everything was changing.

It only took and instant to look back and see those onyx eyes following his retreat.

It only took an instant to see how alone they were.

And it only took an instant to turn around and walk back.

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Hello everyone. Lucky for you I have a massive writers block so... welcome to Speed! 


	2. Start

**Start**

Time is not always calculated in units of measure. Seconds, minutes, days, weeks, none of it matters if the clock never starts and if the calendar is never opened.

Envy paced the rooftops of central. What the hell was he doing? This was so fucked up he didn't even know how to describe it. Instead he contented himself with making animals like growls in frustration and continued in his panther-like grace. He would soon have his own circular dent if he kept this up.

Why did that midget always come to this place now? Envy sat down with a huff and draped his legs over the edge. Across the street was a small restaurant. The blonde brought his dates there almost every Friday night now for the past month. Tonight he went alone. The place was nothing special but Envy did like its location. He could see into the front window perfectly. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Envy groaned and lay back to watch the stars.

The sin nearly choked when it wasn't the stars twinkling back at his from about but golden eyes. Edward Elric looked at him hard for a moment then straightened himself from his bent over position. Envy didn't move, hell, he didn't even breathe. The blonde undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and sat down beside him, rolling up the sleeves. Envy stayed as he was and tried to figure out what he should do. This was just too bizarre. The blonde spoke first.

"They have a really good cream of garden vegetable soup. I go for that."

Envy continued to stay flat. His heart was racing and he didn't understand why. It felt like the rush he got when he was in a good fight but strangely more gentle and unsettling.

A faint crumple and Envy felt a good weighted paper bag place in his exposed stomach. The blonde spoke again looking at the restaurant below. Envy wondering how he even got all the way up here with him noticing.

"But they have this dress code. I think it foolish but the soup is really worth it."

Envy sat up and looked at his companion. This was the first time they ever just sat before, no fighting, plotting or running. It was kind of nice.

"Anyways I have to go back before I loose the table. I put a hair-tie in there too, just encase."

With that he was gone. Envy watched his climb over the edge onto a fire escape. For someone in brown dress pants, he was surprisingly agile and didn't have any problems reaching the street. Those golden eyes gave him a quick glance in his direction before shouting something that blew him away.

"Well hurry and change! I don't have all night to wait out in the street. I'm hungry!!"

Envy looked in the bag and saw a simple outfit. It was a pair of black slacks and a navy blue with a black vest. And indeed there was a hair-tie. He looked in the bag and back at the street. Even at that distance, he couldn't miss that wink before the blonde turned and went in the restaurant.

Envy didn't know what just happened but it was a start. For some reason that mad him happier than he felt in a long time.


	3. Slow

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Slow

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Sometimes to get a desirable state, it takes times. Slow and miserable as it may be in the being, to give up would be worse. Anything worth having takes dedication and handwork. And that applies to _everything._

Breda sank into a heap at the top of the stairs. He was tired and tired of being tired. He waved off an annoyingly fresh looking Fuery who looked at him with concern and glared at the five flights of stairs he just mastered. Maybe it was the stairs that mastered him because Heymans really felt like he wanted to die. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he lifted himself off the floor in a shaking attempt to stand.

"Hey are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick."

Cain took his pile of papers and placed them on the floor.

"Here let me help you. I forgot how far up the storage rooms were in the south building. It's my fault-"

"I don't want you pity. Leave me alone."

Breda didn't mean to snap at his co-worker. It was uncalled for but he didn't really care. He was tired and irritable. Cain Fuery looked hurt but said nothing. He went back to the pile of papers and folders to pick it up.

"I'll see you back in the office"

With that he was gone looking very dejected. Heymans felt like an ass. He sat against the wall and sighed. How did he let himself get this far? Breda looked down at his perturbing stomach in disgust. He didn't always look like this way. He remembered back at the academy he was on the football team. He wasn't a small man then but he was muscle and that's what counted. He could eat whatever he wanted and t would only improve his bulking muscles. He stopped playing after graduating but never quit his eating habits.

"Maybe I can get back to that…"

It was in that moment that Breda decided that he was in need of a lifestyle change.

Heymans was in the military gym for the third time that week. He had on his muscle belt and wrist guards. He wasn't a young man anymore and wanted to prevent unnecessary injuries. He always came early in the morning so no one was around. Breda wasn't ready just yet for anyone to see him in his wife-beater shirt and black shorts. He wanted to go hide in a loose shirt but denied him the security. This was his body and until he was proud of how it looked he would come to this gym every morning if he had too.

He pulled out the schedule he made for himself rotating cardio, flexibility and free weights so he wouldn't be too focused on just one thing. Today was cardio so he hit the treadmills to start. It was a slow process but he was determined.

Week after week went by and he felt the same. A few people noticed his uniform was looser but it wasn't enough. He cut his diet in half and doubled his gym time. Breda felt his free time slipping away but paid it no attention. He would remake his body if it killed him. On morning it almost did.

Breda was shaking on the padded floor, a couple of 15lb dumbbells cast aside. His arms and back were aching. It was early so no one was around but for once he wished there was.

"I think I pulled a muscle in my back."

It hurt to move. All he could do way lay there and wait. It felt like hours had passed before he heard voices in the outer room.

"Good to see you again a Major! How was your mission in the North?"

"Dreadful, I never liked how cold it was up there. I nearly got frost bite while displaying my artistic alchemy."

Breda cringed at the familiar voice. He didn't want anyone he knew to see him like this. The red-head tried to roll over, out of sight but was blinded by pain. It was much more than a muscle. His back was out completely. He vaguely remembered a blonde tuff of hair before he passed out.

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The red-head sat in his hospital bed staring out the window. He was such an idiot. The doctors spent the better part of twenty minutes lecturing him about over working himself and mot eating properly. His back was only strained but his system was crashing. Breda glowered at the fact he had to stay for a couple days hooked to an IV machine. It was embarrassing. Heymans felt like a child who couldn't even look after himself.

There was a soft knocking on the door. Breda wasn't certain if he wanted visitors yet but reluctantly called whoever was out there in. The towering Strong Arm Alchemist walked in hold a small vase with pretty little blue blooms. It was a very modest gesture considering the man who brought them in. Heymans looked in disbelief as the hulking man placed the simple arrangement on his beside table and sat down without looking at him. He spoke but it lacked his usual vigorous energy.

"You current residence lacked the proper décor for a speedy recovery. I thought some colour would boost a positive atmosphere in this sterile environment."

The red-head just blinked and nodded. He felt stiff but enjoyed the muted floral sent the cute flowers gave. There was a long silence when at last the Major spoke. He voice was calm, quiet and lacked any lustre. This was the first time Heymans ever heard the man talk so sincerely.

"I talked to the front desk. Hutchings said how often you workout in the mornings… What are you doing to yourself? And for God's sake why?"

Breda looked to the side and sighed. He could talk to this man. It wasn't like with Fuery and the rest. He saw them on a daily basis and confessing to them would mean seeing that look behind their eyes everyday. That look of pity and disappointment would kill him softly, he knew it. But Armstrong, if nothing else, he would understand the need to be fit.

"I was tired of being like this…"

He gestured to his midriff and sighed.

"I wasn't always so huge. I just thought that if I worked hard I could… like myself more I guess."

He was ashamed to admit such a thing but he couldn't exactly sink any lower to the man. The Major did find him passed out in a gym.

"You don't like yourself? Why not?! You one of the finest strategic and tactical minds in this military!"

"A mind is useless if in a useless body."

Armstrong stood up and leaned over him. Breda felt his pulse quicken and looked into the blonde's fierce eyes.

"Listen here Heymans. Any farmer's son can go and dig holes, lift lumber and run in circles if he wants to. Any fool can build up their body and throw rocks. But what you have is so much more. When was the last time Major Elric beat you in any game?"

The red-head took a moment before letting a small smile spread across his lips.

"Never… has he always thrown a temper tantrum halfway."

Armstrong smiled.

"You see, even with the young major's next to perfect petite muscled frame, minus two limbs of course, he cannot beat you with his mind. And Edward is smart. So is your colonel. How often does he beat you?"

Breda let his smile widen slightly.

"About one in every ten but he always looks like he is in pain doing it. The poor man must get frustrated."

"I doubt a useless man could beat the two of those egomaniacs without breaking a sweat or even standing, wouldn't you agree?"

The red-head thought about and decided to give in. He did enjoy wiping that evil grin and self loving smirk of their faces. He smiled as he recalled the time Mustang set his cards on fire while playing poker. Breda turned his attention back to the blonde moustached man looming over him. His moustache twitched at the eye contact and he sat back in his chair, suddenly very interested in the small blue arrangement. He looked flushed.

"Are you ok? You looked hot; do you want me to call the nurse in?"

"No, no don't be absurd. I was just thinking…"

Breda raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Well thinking about what?"

Armstrong stood up and walked toward the window, careful not to look at him. His hands were clasped behind his back and he intently examined the tree outside.

"I'm just having a hard time thinking about you viewing yourself as useless… especially when I have admired you for quite some time..."

Breda felt his mouth grow dry. What was he saying, who in their right mind would admire him? The red-head wanted to accuse the man of joking but Armstrong continued unaware of Heymans' disapproval in a frank flat tone.

"My father is a brilliant man, naturally. He can read something once and understand it without question. My whole family is like that. Nothing ever came easy for me. I have to work hard and study even harder to just be close to the same league as them. For the longest time… I thought you would be a better son for them, you are brilliant, naturally."

_Naturally? _Heymans started laughing like a maniac. He couldn't help it. What a bizarre day this was turning out to be.

"You think because I can play games well I'm naturally brilliant? No way in hell. My dad used to make me play with him all the time. It was the only thing we had in common so I practiced all the time. It brought us together. I work hard, just like you."

Their eyes met with comforted smile shared between. Breda could feel his heart beating faster but that was ok. He saw Alex Armstrong in a new light. It was intriguing and he couldn't but want to more about the man. He couldn't put his finger on why he wanted the man to stay longer but Heymans didn't fight it.

"Hey… Would you like to have a pudding with me? I'm starving."

The man smiled with a twinkle that for once didn't scare Breda out of his wits. It was cute… did he just think cute? God what kind of meds was he on?

"Never fear Heymans. I will go forth and seek out your much sought after pudding. Wait for my return and we will discuss such topics that even the walls will be interested. This epic quest-"

"Alex! Today would a nice time to start your noble quest, you know, before I waste away to nothing."

They both shared a large laughter filled grin before the bigger man set out to find the pudding. Breda looked at the flowers picked up the arrangement. He suddenly had the feeling that something important just happened. Was he worried? No, good things happen slowly and he still had another three days of nothing but pudding conversations to look forward too. Oddly enough, he wouldn't have it any other way.

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End

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I just wanted to say Silken made me. Oh and I had around coffees in an small period of time... I am sorry... not really. Have fun you kiddies!!


	4. Wait Roy POV

**Author's Note: **So there is a story behind this fic. I'll shorten for you, so you can enjoy it sooner. I was reading **silkendreammaid**'s fic "To Remember" (excellent fic btw, you should read it)

and there was a scene with Roy lurking in a doorway. I meant to review how I thought it was suspiciously creepy of him, but I had to go do life related tasks and couldn't. It took twelve hours for me to remember to go and pay tribute to my friend's fic and by that time the mood was gone. I was in a different state of mind and this fic was the result. If you are curious, on ch 3 of her fic is a massive review with the rough draft of this story posted in it. I honestly didn't mean to write a fic in her review. That's what happens when you do nothing creative for weeks but editing and working.

To make everything better:

**Dedications: **To the wonderful (and hopefully understandable) **silkendreammaid**, who puts up with entirely too much from this little demon (points to self with a cocky smirk). I'm sorry but not Silky, I got caught in the heat of Roy's passionate flames and fetish for leather pants. There was someone else I was going to dedicate this to, it being her idea to post this as an actual fic, but she won't let me. (pouts)

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**Wait  
**Roy POV

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Every day you sit at your desk, day in, and day out. The paperwork is piling and more often than not, you look up into the barrel of a side arm. Life isn't the most bountiful of feasts.

Then it is mission briefing time. You wait for this brief occurrence every moment of your office life. It contains such wonderful joys of immaturity, displays of flailing limb and obscene implications. You can let your guard down momentarily and forget all the proper protocols you learned at the academy about how to hold a meeting or how to address a subordinate. None of that matters.

Fullmetal is here.

He huffs, and puffs, and blows your practicality house down. You sit, barely contained, with a smirk on your face as you watch him rant about this and that. You don't really care for the details because you already know. You are a well informed bastard after all.

A jib here and a jibe there have the blonde spitfire whipped into an absolute torrent of heat and rage. You can almost feel the temperature in the room shift, as those molten gold eyes try to kill you with their hypnotic powers. That is when you deflect with a stature-related remark to save your own skin from being boil off. He is practically spinning around your office, scaring the other office members and toppling over chairs in his fury.

Then comes your second favourite part.

You lean forward on your desk in anticipation masked as boredom. You let your chin rest on your intertwined fingers and wait. He always does it, every time. You try and look, if possible, even more bored. This triggers the wild beast to freeze and all is quiet until...

"Are you even listening, you BASTARD!" he says with ever increasing volume and indignation.

Mismatched hands slam onto your desk, sending horrified stationary accessories flying in all directions, looking for somewhere to hide. Paperwork towers are let to fly on the fair winds of the shared fan and then it happens. It a wush of gold, red and black, an angel of divine retribution looks down on you from the vantage point of you desk.

His voice licks over your body in silky tones. "I bet you'll fucking pay attention now."

But the rest goes unheeded as you raise your eyes up over those ripped, black encased legs to a brown belt with tiny pockets. Your gaze purposely skips over its desired view to see the flap stomach showing from where his shirt escaped the confines of his pants. Calmly, you continued upwards to that neck and follow the line of it to a determined jaw. It is moving in further complaints and ravings that you have so carefully ignored up until this point. Rosy lips, almost foaming at the corners, open and close. You memorize every detail because when the next mission came, these thoughts will keep you occupied.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" he demands and crouches down in a dramatic flair of his red coat. Perched like a gargoyle on his sturdy desk, you wonder if it could take the weight of two but push the thought aside. No such thoughts should be passing through your mind when golden, blissful death is staring at you wildly with limitless wrath. His lips were parted but this time, unmoving. They almost glistened in the stale lamp light. You have to keep your hands held together to keep from touching them softly. You wonder endlessly what they would feel like, a rose petal, silky smooth, or rough and weathered. You don't care. You would give anything just to know. But you will never get find out.

After every mission, this moment in time appears when everything you could ever want is less than a foot away, but still as unreachable as ever. It is forbidden and wrong, so wrong, but that is what makes it oh so very good.

"Hey Bastard, I'm tired of these games. I know you know something you're not telling me. Give it up and we can all go home." He growls in your direction but his eyes aren't looking into yours, they are focused slightly lower. You know he is thinking the same things you are, but nothing can happen. Nothing can ever happen.

You find your voice and let the words you long to keep within out, "That's all I have Fullmetal. You seem to be labouring under the impression that I am a vault of wonders waiting to be cracked. I have no other leads for you at this time. Report tomorrow morning for an administrative assignment. That will be all for this afternoon. Dismissed."

The words echo infinitely in your mind. Dismissed. Every time you say them is one closer to being the last. You hate how the syllables feel one your tongue, like a bad taste that never leaves. If only the demon on your desk would be that taste and linger forever.

You watching him glare mercilessly and hope off you desk. He steams for a moment on the floor just in front of you, back turned, before ripping off that overly covering red coat. He yells something about it being too hot to wear and be angry at the same time. Now is the time you really wait for.

Your absolute, favourite part.

The angel would now walk slowly out the door, with his brother in tow. You listen to their idle talk about getting to the dorms and picking up dinner, but that isn't what you're watching for, that is not what you're waiting for. Your eyes slip down his blonde braid and linger over his tight pants. You spend time memorizing every curve and clench, as they reach the doorway. Then they pause and you let your eyes rise. One golden eye peers over a black collar. It is laced with a longing so fierce, you hold your breath. Then it's gone in a whip of his fair, confined mane. You know that he knows and he knows that you know and the most important part. The slow walk all the way down the hall is purposely for you, so you can watch those leather pants and dream about what is in them.

You are Roy Mustang after all. You can have any woman in the country without even the slightest of effort. It is the unreachable you crave. Like all the ranks standing between you and Furhership, Edward Elric's leather pants were just one more star to strive to reach and more importantly, reach into. And he waits for it, just like you.

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END

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	5. Wait Edward POV

**Authors Note: **Originally I didn't plan on making another POV of wait but now it seems like a good idea. If you really like it I may just come up with another point of view for this moment.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters pertaining to Fullmetal Alchemist... I thought I wish to own an Al toque! I saw a kid with one and now I'm so envious I could change shape and... well, take it and run.

_[This message was brought to you by Spirix, a shining role model for children to young adults around the world._

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Wait  
Edward POV

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You stand in the hallway and count to ten. You have to do this every time that door is before you. If you don't count, you don't think and if you don't think... you don't even want to think about that. 

Armour clanks to your left but you ignore the sound. It is time you start your ritual.

_Ten._

Focus on the mission.

_Nine._

Concentrate on all the statistics and events.

_Eight._

You didn't actually collapse that building; it was derelict to begin with. You just brushed against it too hard.

_Seven._

You were doing the town a favour, saving them from a potential massive catastrophe.

_Six._

He has no right to take it from your budget.

_Five._

Smug bastard and his rules.

_Four._

Smug bastard behind his desk.

_Three._

Smug bastard, with his chin placed on his fingers. You can just picture it.

_Two._

Smug bastard looking at you knowingly. Nothing ever surprises him.

_One._

Him just looking at you with those deep eyes...

_Zero._

That bastard!

You turn the knob and kick the offending wood aside. You can hear sighs from behind you but your focus is elsewhere. The door slams on the wall and makes to come back, but you stride forward, out of its way.

He is looking at you.

He has no right to just look whenever he goddamn pleases. You rant and rave around the office. If he was going to look, then everyone else better fucking be looking too.

You wait for this moment with a fresh anticipation every mission. This is your chance. If he is going to fucking look in silence then you are going to make sure he never forgets. You want to engrave this moment into his skull. That bastard invades your every thought at any given moment. It doesn't matter if you are in the room with him, or across the country. He has you under a spell and seeing him, looking, makes you boil in frustration. Maybe you can turn the spell back on him, make him suffer like you do. You topple over chairs that get in your way. He makes one of his famous comments about your height. He always does to throw you off so you'll storm out. But you never do.

"Are you even listening, you BASTARD!" you yell in hopes to break the uncanny silence he has around him like a cloak.

This is your second favourite part.

He isn't paying attention anymore, so you take advantage of his mock boredom. You can see the glazing of those fucking eyes that look at you. What is he thinking? It's almost as if he is daring you. Well you never come here to back down. You whip your coat to the side and launch onto his desk in a leap-frog fashion, making sure to flick the coat back out for dramatic effect. You can feel it catch on a small air current from the window before settling like a cape. Paper and pens flee your wrath as you take your time and stand up.

You lock your eyes with his and try and convey your rage with his whole being in a simple statement. "I bet you'll fucking pay attention now." You let out in a hot whisper.

His eyes sparkle and he finally falls back into routine. This is how is always goes and as much as you hate it, you keep coming back for more. This man is an addiction, a sin in blue. But you live in sin so it makes sense. Black pools study every wrinkle in your pants, and then every stitch in your belt. Fucking smug bastard was even looking at what little skin was available peeking out from beneath your shirt. You can feel the heat of his gaze as it travels up to your face. You can't breathe, it's getting warm.

You crouch quickly in hopes to hide the fact that he is driving you insane. That heat was burning you alive, but you were drawn to it. A blazing fire can be quite terrifying but to your cold and broken heart, it was extremely inviting. You just want to plunge in and let those eyes scorch your body, your soul, to surrender to those flames for just a moment of unbridled heat.

But too much time had passed since you broke something or yelled. You are suddenly aware of the entire office watching.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" you accuse the burning desire sitting in front of you. It isn't enough to throw his staff and Al off, so you add a growl. "Hey Bastard, I'm tired of these games. I know you know something you're not telling me. Give it up and we can all go home."

You honestly never want to leave. You are so cold, all the time. You crave the heat. You want to immerse yourself in the flames. You love and hate those eyes in the same breath. You are trapped, not by him but by your own want and need.

"That's all I have Fullmetal. You seem to be labouring under the impression that I am a vault of wonders waiting to be cracked. I have no other leads for you at this time. Report tomorrow morning for an administrative assignment. That will be all for this afternoon. Dismissed." His empty brush-off echoes in your head for as he said it, you could see the flicker in his gaze. It is that flicker you wait for.

Every time you leave, you question whether it was there or not. In the moment you know it like nothing else, but on lonely, colds nights it fells like wishful thinking. But right now, it was there, that intense want and desire. Now is the time for why you really came. The reason every, single, fucking time.

Your absolute, favourite part.

You allow the heat to swallow you whole and pass your red coat off to Al with a lame excuse. Tongues of flame wrap around your legs like affectionate cats as you make your way to the door. They twine and circle your whole body. You savour the scorching gaze until you reach the doorway. Unable to help yourself, once again, you turn your head slightly to look into those eyes over your shoulder with one eye. You always try and convince yourself not to, because each time makes it harder to walk away, down that hall. But seeing the flicker ignite into that passionate stare, it made every one of those nights of waiting worth while if it meant being one moment closer to coming back and seeing them again.

You tear your eye away and walk down the hall slowly. Maybe one day you won't have to take your time. If you wait long enough, walk slowly enough, maybe one day he'll stop you before you reach the corner and disappear.

You are Edward Elric after all. Nothing in your life comes without a price. Roy Mustang, like everything else, will be yours once you find the equivalent price. You would give anything to be able to throw yourself into his inferno.

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End

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End file.
